


White

by KY Lowell (TachyonStar)



Category: Compilation of Final Fantasy VII
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-24
Updated: 2013-09-24
Packaged: 2017-12-27 13:20:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 629
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/979419
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TachyonStar/pseuds/KY%20Lowell
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A younger Vincent, ill and housebound, watches the snow.</p>
            </blockquote>





	White

"Vincent, come away from that window. You'll catch your death of cold."  
  
Other than a slight tensing of his shoulders, the dark-haired boy gave no indication that he'd heard the words; he simply stayed where he was, bare fingertips pressed to cold glass and hot breath fogging the windowpane in front of him with every exhalation, watching mournfully as flurries of white whirled unceasingly by, seeming to taunt him with their untouched perfection. He wanted so badly to forget himself and throw on something warmer, dash outside into the chill with no heed for anything but losing himself amidst swirls of snow, but he knew it was impossible - too ill, too frail for such things, all he could do was sit and watch with his hands to the window and just imagine he could feel each flake on his skin, sparks of cold that would quickly melt away as they touched him and--  
  
There was a more familiar touch, then, hands on his shoulders that pulled him gently but firmly away from the window and into a warm, comforting embrace, and though he tried to squirm away at first he couldn't deny that he felt safe and protected and soon settled, letting his feverish head come to rest on his father's shoulder and closing his eyes. "I want to go outside," he said softly, but he knew the answer already and wasn't in the least disappointed when he sensed rather than saw a slight headshake, only sighing and allowing himself to be lifted and carried back to his bed; the covers were still rumpled, bunched into a heap at the foot of the mattress from the haphazard way he had thrown them off and rushed to the window on awakening to see the snowstorm outside, and he heard a faint chuckle and an absent murmur about what a pain straightening the mussed linens always was as he was settled against his pillow and the blankets were pulled up around his thin shoulders. For a moment, as he always did, he felt disgusted with his weak condition - somehow he always hated it the most when he was just settling into the soft warmth of his bed - but it soon passed and he turned his head to the window, bringing his hands up to pull the blankets up just a bit more.  
  
  
"...Don't you think it's sad, Father?" he found himself suddenly asking, blinking slowly as his eyes tracked a swirl of snowflakes past the glass. "The snow...it's so perfect. But even just one little thing could spoil all of that, and then it wouldn't be perfect any more. Just one touch, or even one breath..." He trailed off, not knowing where he was going with that, and shook his head, night-dark hair feathering out against the stark white pillowcase. "Isn't it sad?"  
  
A hand smoothed his hair, touched his forehead, feeling wonderfully cool on his hot skin. "I suppose it is sad. But don't worry yourself thinking about it. Rest."  
  
He sighed, having to be content with that, and closed his eyes. "...Will you wake me when it stops snowing? I want to see it while it's still perfect."  
  
"I will." His hair was smoothed again; the gentle touch soothed him closer to sleep. "Now rest."  
  
He murmured quiet agreement, letting himself be pulled under slumber's inexorable cloak of darkness and dreams; he only dimly felt the comforting hand leave his hair, and couldn't find the strength to protest as he fell fully to sleep, to dream of snowstorms and silence and pure white perfection.  
  
The heat of his son's fevered skin still lingering against his palm, Grimoire gave a faint, sad smile, turning his own gaze to the window for a long moment before withdrawing from the room.


End file.
